Though I didn’t use anywhere near the 23 samples I originally planned (it was more like 11), I still managed to put together a bizarre little 4 1/2 minute piece. It feels very rough, but I kind of like that. It manages to follow a kind of mood throughout the Blogathon, and by the end, it feels like you’ve been listening for 24 hours.

I’ll be posting the individual sounds for anyone who’s interested, but for now: the Blogathon Song (4:30, 4.12 megs).

As the hours wind down, I’m amazed at how easy this Blogathon was. Even with the occasional helping hand I gave Cat or the gimmick song I was working on or the morning baking I did, the hours seemed to go quickly. And though I’m definitely tired and ready for bed, I feel fine. Almost no caffeine (except for a couple small glasses of Coke for lunch yesterday)… I even bought an iced Assam tea at Giant last night that I didn’t even open.

I didn’t get some of the “extra” stuff done that I would have liked (working on other sites of mine, watching a movie, etc.), but so what. I did my thing and a good organization will benefit.

I kid you not: on the news this morning, there was a political roundtable discussion. The old, white guy, who looked in really bad shape at probably around 65 years old, used the word “dissed” without pausing and with a straight face.

I’m not very confident about how these biscotti I’m making are going to come out. I went ahead and used the butter and only replaced the eggs with Ener-G egg replacer, but I’m not convinced by the consistency of the pre-baked rolls that it’s going to come out tasting good. We’ll see, I guess.

In the meantime, I’m watching a little news and Huyen’s heading out to work. Again.

When I went to New York a couple years back, I went to see Maury live. As you can imagine, it was quite an experience.

Before the show started, there was a dance contest of sorts for women in the audience. A few young women came up and got their groove on. Maury went to a woman in the first row (seen in the picture below with the cornrows and the striped shirt) and urged her to come up on stage.

“Come on,” Maury said. The person in the front row said something, Maury leaned over, and the person repeated it to him quietly, “I’m not a woman. I’m a man.”

Maury flinched slightly, took a second, and then said, “It doesn’t matter! Come on up anyway!” The man declined.

As soon as I saw Maury walk towards this guy (who, honestly, was definitely a guy through and through), I could see what was coming next. It was like trying to stop a Mack truck at 60 mph on a wet road: I just had to let it happen and hope no one got hurt.